Sunday, March 19, 2017
Poetry: Wild
WILD
Most people carry the husks
of their wild oats
in their pockets
and every once in awhile
their hand reaches in
to scoop out an old piece of rebellion
turned to sawdust
and it makes them smile
But I was that child
whose only version of wild
was to raise my hand to read out loud in class
in my own quiet way of daring
and it turned into a lifelong thing
this cautious mind, with empty pockets
lost in an inner world
deep within the confines
of my careful cage of a body
It's all okay, though,
I'm coming back around
I was always afraid of my own shadow
but God was just making sure
I was breaking it in
growing me into a better version
of that bookworm child
teaching me to see
beyond the hard edges
of my knowledge
And I have come to love
my own way of the wild
the soul-side kind
curve of spirit, circle of dreams
soft epiphanies and wonders
spiraling behind my eyes
which may have aging lines
but now seek out the light in others
because the eyes
can never tell lies
My wild oats are alive
and they're with me even now
I shake them off my fingers
collecting them
between the pages of my journal
soulful word husks
pressed into the grain of the paper
where I can sit in my wild silence
and read them, and smile.
© Sherri Brannon 2017
Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth. ~Anne Sexton
I was never a rebel growing up...I was the quiet, studious one. I was the good girl who was afraid to step out of line or get into trouble. I'm perfectly content with that now. It suits me perfectly. We all have some sort of wild in us...mine was (is) just quieter, and more internal. What kind of wild did (do) you have?
As a creative challenge, I tried to come up with an image to go along with my poem. I don't know if I succeeded, but it sure was fun trying. I blended two of my iPhone images together in Superimpose (one being a shadow photo of my hand). I recently discovered the Slow Shutter Cam app and I'm having fun trying to figure it out. It'll take some practice!
Labels:
iphoneography,
poetry
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I love that...we all need to find our own way of the wild!
ReplyDeleteFew things are as powerful as the act of seeing ourselves, as we truly are, and being completely okay with that. All this, and a bit more, is shown in the speaker's smile. Just lovely.
ReplyDeleteI loved this so much! Especially the first para. How the sawdusts makes you smile :) i do that too. Soul side kind is the best kind of wild :D
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ReplyDeleteAnd I have come to love
my own way of the wild
the soul-side kind
curve of spirit, circle of dreams
soft epiphanies and wonders
spiraling behind my eyes
which may have aging lines
but now seek out the light in others
because the eyes
can never tell lies
I love this soo much!!❤️ You made my day!❤️
I love the journey described in this piece, love the older, wise eyes that seek out the light in others. What a wonderful progression this poem - and this life - is.
ReplyDeleteI see so much of myself in your younger self... maybe we are the lucky ones, not having burned that rebellion when young... maybe it's like carrying and ember that can be rekindled at need.
ReplyDeleteA lovely recount of introspection and coming to accept one's self with the confidence that comes with maturity (hopefully!). Well written.
ReplyDeleteYour art and poem are inspiring! Too bad youth is wasted on the young, hey? Lol!
ReplyDeleteProfound and very much appreciated as I try to puzzle my way through the dynamics that surround me. I have always trusted what looking into the eyes of others tell me and am happier when i seek out the light in others. You nailed it.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteZQ
How well your art accompanies your poem. I really liked your poem, one of self discovery and self revelation....one which shares your essence with the reader!
ReplyDeleteI can relate to your quiet, introverted self. I'm that way too and it took a while to be happy with that, with just being me. Love how you wrote this and that you enjoy reading your own journal entries. They certainly reveal ourselves to ourselves. Don't they?
ReplyDelete"My wild oats are alive....soulful word husks"--this is gorgeous and I love the way the whole poem comes full circle.....a recognition, and embracing, of the true inner self that you have always been. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteSherri, I tried to email you but your email must have changed. Mine has too. Please e me at wildwomantwo@gmail.com, I have a question........
ReplyDeleteI love the idea of, kind of, breaking in life gently. I think you probably savored it more fully, as you walked your own path. And that graphic is WayCool. I really enjoyed this eloquent poem. A lovely piece of writing, really.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous poem! I was that child too – until I turned 15, and a few things in my life changed for the worse, and for one reason or the other (or both) I acquired a little more rebellion. I love that you are so to terms with yourself, with the deep understanding of maturity and the faith that all is as meant to be. I particularly love the 4th verse.
ReplyDeleteAh - personal journey is always very interesting, Thanks for sharing this to us, Sherri. I think you did a good job as you slowly come out of your shell, cool photo too. Yeah, sometimes I play with my iphone photos too - so many applications to play with.
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